Artist: J. Cole
Album:  The Come Up (Mixtape)
Song:   Dolla and a Dream
Typed by: AZ Lyrics

A dolla and a dream, that's all a nigga got
So if its about that cream, then I'm all up in the spot
I was raised in the F-A
Why a nigga never gave me nothing?
Pops left me, I ain't never cry, baby, fuck him, that's life
And trust me I'm living
Look what a nigga made out
The shit that I was given
Look what a nigga came out
Momma sewing patches on my holes
Man, our hoes couldn't put this flame out
Straight up, I got my back against the brick wall
I'm from a world where niggaz never pop no Cristal, it was pistols
You pass through, you better pray them bullets missed y'all
I thank the Lord He let a nigga make it this far
A lot niggaz don't, a lot of moms weep
I gotta carry on, all the weight is on me
You never know when a nigga might try to harm me
Rest In Peace that nigga John Lee
I pour liquor, homie

It's foul, but yo the world keeps spinning
Gotta keep winning, get up off this cheap linen
Nigga Imma eat, even if it means sinning
Niggaz want beef, Imma sink my teeth in 'em
Pause, I go harder, I'm all about a dollar
You niggaz street smart? I'm a motherfucking scholar
So trust me, I ain't stopping 'til my money is long
So much dough, them hoes will think I'm rocking money cologne
Have a model at the crib waiting, "Honey, I'm home"
Cooking greens for a nigga, give 'em plenty, a dome
It's funny, we dream about money so much its like we almost got it
Until we reach up in our pockets, its time to face reality
The ville is a trap nigga now
And if you ain't focused you gonna be here for awhile
My nigga Mike rolling with me, riding shotgun
Type a nigga know about every car, but don't got one

That's hunger, no wonder niggaz fucking with the evils
Posted on the corner, selling crack like its legal
But who am I to judge how a nigga get his paper?
This money coming soon, dog, I'm tryna get my cake up
I guess I gotta wake up these niggaz myself
An E&J sipper, but my shit is top shelf
Young J, the rawest shit you niggaz ever heard of
A journalist nigga, call me the Fayetteville Observer

You know the routine, man
Fayettnam
Real niggaz can relate
And Ville niggaz can relate, man
My niggaz know about the struggle, man
What you know about your momma sewing patches on your holes, nigga?
I had the light blue jeans with the green patches, haha, oh shit
I was in like first grade man, I swear
It was like the Sixes came out, the Jordan Sixes
Them shit was so fly man, I wanted them so bad
Darryl what up man?
My nigga Darryl had them shits on in class yo
I wanted that shit soooo bad
I begged my mom for that shit, you know
But she couldn't afford it, yo, she gave me
Got me some Reeboks black tops, ahaha
But that was all good tho, cuz uh
The year after that I had, I had some, some no name shits
Some all black shits, haha
Them shits had metal, metal shoelace buckles and shit, you know?
But you know back then niggaz didn't
Niggaz ain't even know he was broke man, no worries and shit
But uh, times have changed man, I got bills
My mom is in debt, what you know about that?
College loans and shit, nigga
Gotta get this money, ma